Page 132 of Love Sick

Because it isn’t true!

The people who matter know that.

Julian wants us to date in public. At some point, I thought we could do it, but now…

It will taint us. We won’t survive it. These rumors won’t stop because I’m dating him. They’ll gain traction, go haywire.

You’ll have to go public eventually. You going to marry him in secret?

Why would he ever want to marry me?

He said he loves you.

Did he mean it, though? I can’t trust my own judgment. I’ve been so wrong before. I’m so sick of love.

He’s never lied to you.

Tears have stained my face. I down the rest of my beer and pop the cap of another.

I hate everything about this day, and it’s going to get worse, isn’t it?

Julian’s coming, and I’ll have to tell him the truth.

I can’t drag him down into my mud, and I won’t risk falling, then hit the ground when he decides he doesn’t want to be with the hospital slut.

Julian doesn’t love me.

He can’t.

Who would?

His familiar knock precedes him cracking the front door. “Grace?”

I pause in my harried pacing of the living room. “I’m in here.”

He enters with a soft smile and kisses my cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I stare into those dark eyes. So loving. So beloved. “How was your day?”

“Well, I should have been in surgery, but I was covering L&D instead, so…it sucked.”

A hollow laugh is my answer.

He leads me to the couch and slips the half-empty beer from my hand. “I’m glad Raven had a healthy baby, but covering for her the next three months will be pretty shitty.”

Scowling, I curl into my throw pillows while he sips my beer and sets it on the table. I’d forgotten about our increased workload over the next twelve weeks. This is just…the worst day ever.

His hand threads through my hair and gently massages. “Did your day get better?”

I let out a bitter chuckle, then reach for the bottle. Sitting up to take a drink separates us. His hand falls away. The hints of amber in his eyes when he looks at me strike deep into my chest.

He’s so open. So caring. So kind.

He deserves better than me.

The pain hits me like a sledgehammer. It freezes my veins, then slams into my chest. Shards of ice scatter over everything.

I’m cold. Broken. Emotionally unavailable.

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